


The Omelette Incident

by SarahBellCastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bartender!Benny, M/M, The Roadhouse, drunk!Cas, everyone is human, except bobby is a cat, sam is mentioned but not really in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahBellCastiel/pseuds/SarahBellCastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You gonna throw me out?” Castiel gasped, tears welling in his unfocused eyes.</p><p>Dean almost said yes. But Castiel looked so miserable, with the whole suit-and-tie-and-trenchcoat look and the screwed up hair and squinty blue eyes. Plus, Bobbie- the ultimate judge of character- had taken a liking to him. Might as well keep him here. Trying to get home drunk is no picnic, and Dean had no idea where the guy lived anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Omelette Incident

Dean stared at his computer screen. It was way too late at night to be doing all this paperwork, and he had a football game to watch. But Sam would kill him if he didn’t file this stuff by tomorrow. Dean sighed and took a swig of his soda.

“Annaaaa! I’m heeere!” a slurred voice called from the living room.

Dean froze. Who the hell was that?

“Niiice kitty... Anna, I didn’no you gotcherself a kitty cat!” the voice cooed.

Frowning, Dean got up from his chair and walked into the living room. There, standing (barely) just inside the door and petting his cat, was a guy Dean had never seen before.

“Who the hell’re you?” Dean asked.

“‘M Castee-el. ‘R you Anna?” the guy asked.

“No,” Dean replied.

“You gonna throw me out?” Castiel gasped, tears welling in his unfocused eyes.

Dean almost said yes. But Castiel looked so miserable, with the whole suit-and-tie-and-trenchcoat look and the screwed up hair and squinty blue eyes. Plus, Bobbie- the ultimate judge of character- had taken a liking to him. Might as well keep him here. Trying to get home drunk is no picnic, and Dean had no idea where the guy lived anyway.

“Yer gonna throw me out, aren’t youuu?” Castiel whined again.

Dean shrugged.

“Oh, good,” Castiel sighed. He took a couple of steps forward and flopped onto the couch, closing his eyes.

That’s settled, then, Dean thought.

Castiel opened his eyes again. “Annaaa, I can’t sleeep” he cried.

Or maybe not, Dean chuckled to himself. “Try harder.”

“I did try!”

“Well, you want some eggs or something?” His go-to drunk food.

“No, I’m gonna barfff,” Castiel groaned.

Please not on the couch, Dean thought. “Bathroom’s down the hall, first door on your left.”

Castiel didn’t reply.

“I’m gonna make some eggs,” Dean decided. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out ingredients for omelettes (basically whatever he had left in his fridge). Castiel got up and followed him, lurching against the wall. He somehow maneuvered himself onto a stool at the counter.

“One more drink, Benny, for the roooad!” Castiel rapped on the countertop. He laughed.

Dean shook his head and set a glass of OJ before Castiel, who drained it. Castiel had been drinking at The Roadhouse, the local bar tended by Dean’s friend Benny. Benny was usually pretty good about cutting people off, but obviously the wasted Castiel had gone unnoticed. Dean took out his phone and snapped a picture of Castiel. He sent it to Benny-

Dude, you let a guy go home this wasted?

Dean cracked four eggs into a bowl and scrambled them. His phone buzzed.

He left with a gal he knew, Benny had replied, And how the hell did he end up at your place?

Wandered in. His gal’s gone. Dean put the phone down and went back to the eggs. Behind him, Castiel watched, fascinated. He kept trying to drink from his empty glass of OJ.

“Any allergies?” Dean asked Castiel. He didn’t want the poor guy to end up drunk and breaking out in hives in the middle of the night.

“I am allergic... to cats,” Castiel announced. As if on cue, Bobbie jumped up on the counter. Castiel sneezed.

“‘Fraid I can’t help you there, buddy. Bobbie’s staying,” Dean chuckled.

“‘S okay, kitty cat. I have meds meds meds,” Castiel sang, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a bottle of allergy medication, popping a pill into his mouth. He offered one to the cat-

“Please don’t feed allergy medicine to my cat,” Dean sighed, picking Bobbie up of the counter and plopping her back on the floor. Castiel shrugged and dry-swallowed both pills, grimacing. He put his head down on the counter.

Dean’s phone buzzed. He opened Benny’s text to find a picture of a redhead singing karaoke on The Roadhouse’s stage. Found her. She’s pretty wasted now too. I’m gonna give her a ride home. You want me to pick up your man?

“You know this girl?” Dean asked Castiel, showing him the picture.

“That’s Anna! Anna, Anna are you there?” Castiel yelled at the picture.

Dean shot him a glare and grabbed his phone back. Nah, he’s practically falling asleep over his OJ. He can stay on the couch tonight, he replied.

Alright, brother. You call if he starts giving you trouble, hear? Benny texted.

Dean glanced over at Castiel, snoring on the counter. He doubted there would be any trouble.

Yessir.

Dean went back to his omelettes, grating cheese and sprinkling in the last of the bacon, mushrooms, and onions. Castiel picked his head up at the smell of the sizzling meat and started humming a church hymn.

“You a religious guy?” Dean asked, amused.

“Nope,” Castiel crowed, “No sir-ee. But I’ll tell you a secret... I like the music.”

“Do you?” Dean asked, smiling.

“Yep. Very soulful, very very beautiful. Beautissimo!” Castiel started singing louder, slightly off-key but not all that bad. Dean chuckled again as he got out plates and silverware. He cut the omelette in half and slid it onto two plates, setting them on the counter as Castiel came to the rising climax of the song, wildly conducting an imaginary orchestra.

“Eat up,” Dean ordered.

“Mhm. Eggs,” Castiel groaned. “Did you know that they world’s biggest egg was nine-point-one?”

“Nine-point-one what?”

“Eggs! Nine-point-one eggs!” Castiel shouted.

“Okay, less talking, more chewing.”

Castiel sat ramrod straight and gave a sloppy salute. “Yessir!” He ate like a pig and then conked out when he was done. Dean sighed and pulled Castiel’s arms around his shoulder, helping him off the stool and back onto the couch.

“Alright, princess, yell if you need me,” he said. He laid a blanket over Castiel and a pillow under his head. Dean grabbed the drunk essentials: a bucket, a box of tissues, a tall glass of water, and some advil- and set them on the coffee table.

“Sleep tight,” he whispered.

Dean cleaned up the kitchen and put his leftover omelette in a tupperware in the fridge. He imagined Castiel waking up in the morning and going straight for the food, making a fantastic meal before Dean even got out of bed. Then they would sit and talk and laugh and maybe Castiel wouldn’t leave for a while and they could-

Or maybe Castiel would wake up, look around, shrug, and leave.

Dean sighed and checked back in. The drunk man was curled up on his side, Bobbie purring deeply in the crook of his waist. Any guy who curled up with a cat was definitely the cooking-breakfast-in-the-morning type. Dean smiled and switched off the TV and the light. He retreated to his office. He had better get that paperwork done so he could spend the morning with Castiel.

Of course, in the morning Castiel was gone. Dean ran a hand through his hair as he trundled over to the coffee maker. Seriously, what was he thinking? Of course Castiel wasn’t going to hang around the morning after he had made a fool of himself. Dean certainly wouldn’t have. And really? Thinking that cat-cuddling was any indication of whether Castiel would stay? Dean really needed to have his head checked out, not to mention his testosterone levels.

Bobbie’s insistent mewl tugged Dean out of his head. He reached into the cabinet to grab some cat food- and stopped when he realized there wasn’t any left. The omelettes from last night were gone, too. At least Castiel had taken care of himself... but then again, Dean had been kind of counting on those omelettes for breakfast. At least there was coffee... or maybe not, Dean thought as he glared at the empty coffee box. Now he had to start his day with no coffee and a grumpy cat. And no Castiel. Awesome.

Knock-knock. “Dean? I brought eggs...”

Was that... Castiel? Dean practically leaped towards the door- oh, come on. Leaping for the door like a horny teenager? Since when did Dean get crushes on obnoxious drunk guys?

“Dean? Are you there?” Dean’s mouth went dry. It was definitely Castiel and Dean was definitely crushing. He walked slowly to the door and opened it sharply. Castiel’s fist almost collided with his face.

“Oh, sorry! I was just about to knock, your-”

“Doorbell isn't working. I know,” Dean said. Smart, Winchester. Real witty.

Castiel smiled cautiously. “Yeah. Well, I’m sober now, and I brought you some eggs and flowers and OJ and stuff to apologize,” he said, gesturing to the shopping bag in his other hand. “And to replenish your omelette supplies. And I got you some kitty treats and gourmet cat chow to make up for my terrible cuddling last night,” Castiel said to Bobbie, who wound between his ankles, purring like a chainsaw.

“Wow,” Dean chuckled.

“What?” Castiel cocked his head up at Dean.

“Nothing.” It was just that crush or not, anyone who brought apology treats to cats must be a near-perfect person.

“Sorry about everything, by the way. I can be pretty awful when I’m drunk,” Castiel admitted.

Dean shrugged. “It was kind of cute, actually. I mean, funny.”

Seriously, when did he become such a girl? Dean blushed furiously and rubbed his neck. Castiel smiled a bit wider, which was really all Dean needed. “Hey, do you want to come in? I was about to have breakfast, and I would love the company.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “You want the drunk guy for company?”

“Well, you’re sober now, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“Just get in here.” Dean took the shopping bag into the kitchen. He missed the huge smile that spread across Castiel’s face as he crossed the threshold (sober this time) and closed the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is much appreciated!


End file.
